Within the 12th Division barracks—
Mayuri Kurotsuchi stared at the independent signal communicator in front of him. Messages scrolled rapidly across its screen—someone was trying to get through to him.
He read them all in silence.
Without a word, he grabbed the communicator and flung it behind him.
"Nemu. Handle it per protocol."
"Yes, Lord Mayuri."
As the current head of the Research and Development Institute, Mayuri fully understood the value of sensitive information. Gathering intel wasn't hard—knowing how to handle it discreetly and keep it hidden was the real challenge.
Nemu took the communicator to dispose of it. Meanwhile, Mayuri put down his current work and headed into another lab.
After passing multiple password locks and biometric scans, he finally arrived at a dimly lit room.
He turned on the lights, checked the readouts on his instruments, and skimmed the latest reports.
Then he looked up, expression unreadable, and gazed at the restrained figure before him.
"Good morning, Sōsuke Aizen."
Wrapped in bandages designed to suppress both movement and spiritual pressure, Aizen's lips curled faintly upward.
"You? Greeting someone first? That's rare."
"That's quite the rude assumption," Mayuri replied dryly. "I'm perfectly capable of basic social manners. Most people simply aren't worth the emotional effort."
"Heh. Still just as blunt."
"And you're one to talk."
People are finite creatures. The more energy you spend focusing on one thing, the less you have for anything else.
Now then—
"What did you think of what I showed you yesterday?"
Aizen's smile froze slightly. He didn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to think.
Finally, he replied with a tone of quiet confusion.
"I… don't understand."
Mayuri, surprisingly patient, didn't mock him. He just continued flipping through his report calmly.
"What don't you understand?"
"Why Seiya entrusted you with something like this."
Even Aizen had no knowledge of this. Why did Mayuri know it—and why was he considered a key collaborator?
"Well, every field has its experts."
Smack. Mayuri slammed the file onto the desk and spread his fingers with a flourish.
"I'm on the side of the Gotei 13. I'm also one of the few 'neutral' figures Seiya Arima could still contact. Really, I'm the only logical choice."
"Besides—if you knew Seiya's plan, would you agree with it?"
Aizen fell silent. Utterly, deafeningly silent.
He eventually sighed and closed his eyes, almost in resignation.
"…No. I wouldn't."
"I thought as much."
Mayuri adjusted his instruments, blinking his deadpan eyes.
"Let's face it—everyone has their own plan. You, Seiya, the Gotei 13—we're all preparing our own contingencies."
"No one listens. Everyone thinks their plan is perfect. It's easier to act alone than waste time convincing others."
"You're one of those people too, right? Sōsuke Aizen."
Unfortunately for you—
"Your plan failed."
A backhanded taunt—but strangely, Aizen didn't seem angry.
"..."
He lowered his gaze, reflecting on all he'd done.
Then—he chuckled bitterly.
"You… may have a point."
Mayuri glanced sideways, a bit surprised. That wasn't something he'd ever expect from this man.
Something had changed. Something unseen, intangible.
"Heh. So it takes failure to realize the value of self-reflection? I suppose I like you better this way."
"Blind arrogance accomplishes nothing. I… understand that now."
"So you plan to deal with the looming crisis your way?"
"Of course."
Mayuri pulled out a silver syringe, inspected it, and squinted through one eye to check the pressure.
"After all, we're the kind of people who don't turn back until we've slammed into a wall."
Like Aizen.
If he hadn't fallen, hadn't faced the power of the Royal Guard himself, he'd never have gained this perspective.
"Humans become more arrogant the longer they live."
"They mistake their biases for universal truths and worship them like divine laws."
"And I'm no exception."
Aizen raised an eyebrow.
"You mean…"
"Yes. Just as you're thinking."
Mayuri didn't even look back.
"Information on the Quincy has been fully shared with the Gotei 13."
"Then you—"
He stopped mid-sentence. The pieces had already fallen into place.
No turning back.
That principle applied to everyone.
Aizen sighed.
"Fools…"
"We're in good company."
Mayuri even had the gall to insult himself—something few would expect from such an egomaniac.
"Is this change… also because of Seiya?"
"Don't say creepy stuff. You make it sound like I've developed some sort of affection for your prized pupil."
He flicked the syringe. It gave off a low hum that made him smile.
"I just realized running from who you are is incredibly foolish."
"Embarrassing as it is, I had to be taught that by someone younger."
"Oh—sorry. Guess I shouldn't be telling you this."
Aizen remained silent, neither bothered nor amused.
It was a miracle the two of them were having a conversation at all.
"Well then, Sōsuke Aizen. I won't hold back."
Aizen sighed, resigned.
Like he had a choice.
The needle pierced his chest. Blood, still red, flowed into the syringe.
Mayuri's eyes widened. He let out an odd, giddy noise.
"Hohoho~ Even after merging with the Hōgyoku, your blood's still this color? Fascinating~"
"…Besides Seiya's plan, are you going to use that for your twisted projects too?"
"Taking souvenirs is a researcher's proud tradition. Don't you agree?"
Aizen gave up. No use fighting it—he had no say.
Even so…
He sighed deeply.
"I hope… we never have to use this backup plan."
Mayuri paused. His face froze for a moment. Then he muttered under his breath—
"…For once, I agree."
——
Soul Society, New Seireitei.
Within the jurisdiction of the 9th Division: the white tower.
Built after the reconstruction of Seireitei, it was a state-of-the-art facility designed to detain high-risk prisoners.
A prestigious guest arrived today.
"Right this way, Head Captain!"
The 9th Division officers were visibly nervous—after all, even most captains rarely visited this place.
Let alone the leader of the 1st Division himself!
"No need to be so stiff~ I'm just here for a visit. Call it… a routine inspection?"
Now they're even more nervous.
"Clear the path for the Head Captain! Don't waste his time!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Sorry to trouble you. Oh, by the way—this is my first time here since Seireitei's rebuild. Mind giving me a tour?"
"O-Of course!"
The tower followed a basic hierarchy: the higher up the prisoner, the worse the crime. Its sharp, vertical design symbolized severity and exclusivity.
"I see. Makes sense."
Now—
"This particular man… where's he being held?"
——
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Inside his cell, someone turned his head, sensing them.
He lowered his gaze from the window and listened to the door unlocking.
Familiar figures appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly.
"Yo~ Sorry to bother you. Mind stepping out for a bit?"
The man stood, nodded.
"Of course."
He lifted his hands, shackled in heavy iron cuffs—like restraints for a beast.
"Might be a little inconvenient right now."
The chains were removed. So were the spiritual suppressing bandages.
The thin prisoner exhaled deeply and stretched—only to wince halfway through.
Seiya's face contorted.
"Ow, ow, ow…"
Ise Nanao frowned, stepped forward, and placed glowing hands over his waist.
A soothing reishi flow gently eased his pain.
"You've lost all your spiritual power. You're a proper old man now, so start acting like it."
"…Ahaha. Guess that's true."
Seiya blinked, sighing softly.
"Thanks, Nanao-senpai."
"..."
She hadn't expected him to remember that.
Years had passed, but those words instantly took her back to their academy days.
Memories of the Shinō Academy flooded her, softening her expression.
She turned her face, hiding her emotions.
She'd thought she could face him calmly.
But now she knew—she wasn't ready.
Emotionally, she couldn't accept this outcome.
Rationally, she forced herself to.
Why did the person she once admired end up like this?
She wiped her eye discreetly.
"Idiot…"
"Hmm? What was that, Nanao-senpai?"
"None of your business!"
As she walked away, Kyōraku Shunsui chuckled softly.
"A real classic tsundere. Amazing they still exist."
"You follow those subcultures, Head Captain?"
"Keeping a young heart is key to job satisfaction~ If you feel old, wrinkles follow fast."
"Ah… So that's your secret to long life?"
"You catch on quick."
That familiar tone was the same as always between them.
"Bit late, but… congratulations on your promotion, Kyōraku-taichō."
Kyōraku gave a calm nod, smiling.
"Much appreciated, former Captain Seiya."
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Powerstones?
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